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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308008">Thicker Than Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlimflam/pseuds/ProfessorFlimflam'>ProfessorFlimflam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Holby City</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, F/F, Halloween, Holby Halloween Monster Mash 2020, Horror, Vampires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:08:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlimflam/pseuds/ProfessorFlimflam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Serena has been invited to give blood at an unusual location. But the location isn’t half as unusual as what she finds there...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Holby Halloween Monster Mash 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thicker Than Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Serena had expected the building to be more brightly lit, but it was definitely the right place. She checked the address on the letter against the blue little dot on her phone, and squinted in the gloom to read the sign fixed to the high iron railings.</p><p><em>Holby Municipal Hospital</em>, it read, though beneath the peeling layers of paint, its former name, <em>Holby City Asylum</em> was clearly legible. Well, it was neither an asylum nor a hospital now, Serena reflected. For some years it had belonged to the city’s university, but several years ago they had relocated to a shiny new campus on the edge of town, with modern landscaping and more coffee shops than classrooms. She didn’t know what this building had been used for since then - nothing, by the looks of it. Although it was as well built as any gothic Victorian pile, it looked in poor repair, with mortar crumbling from the corners, and the windows boarded up where some local ne'er do well had flung stones at them for target practice. The bars on the ground floor windows looked sound and sturdy, though, and she was surprised that they hadn’t been stolen for scrap by now.</p><p>She cast about to see where the entrance was, and saw that there was a dull glimmer of light emanating from the oldest part of the building, on the right hand side: she could just make out the legend<em>East Wing</em> carved into the lintel of the imposing doorway. The path was greasy with fallen leaves and the pervasive fog that had lain over Holby for the last day and night, and she made her way cautiously towards the pallid glow of the quarter light above the door. Something fluttered in her peripheral vision, and she started back as it swooped past her, so close that she thought she felt the cold beating wings through the heavy damp air. She followed the darting shadow as best she could as it rose in a smooth arc to the eaves of the East Wing.</p><p>She let out a stifled cry that was not quite <em>oh</em> and not quite <em>ugh</em>. “Bats! Goodness, of all the things to come flying at you from a Victorian loony bin…” Glad that there was no-one nearby to witness her little moment of melodrama, she drew her warm red coat closer about her throat and strode as steadily as she could to the door, and pushed it open. She wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that it was made of heavy, dark oak, and that it creaked painfully as the hinges attempted to recall their purpose. She stepped through into the gloomy interior, and the door swung closed behind her with a thud that echoed down long dark corridors.</p><p>Her heart beating faster than she liked, she stood for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the gloom. The corridor was lit with what looked like the original gas lamps, but surely they had been replaced by electric lights by now? Either way, the light was barely sufficient to see the dark, heavy oak furniture lining the corridor: bookshelves and chests, cabinets and who knew what else. But light there was, at least, and she followed it along the passageway, hear heart in her mouth despite her assertions to herself that she was being ridiculous. A moment later, though, she stopped in her tracks, certain that she had heard something moving, something with her in the dark. Something… following her.</p><p>Feeling as foolish as she was frightened, she stopped to listen, but she could hear nothing above the hammering of her heart, the blood coursing in her ears. She took a deep breath to calm herself, set her face resolutely towards the glimmering light ahead and took a step forward, only to find herself arrested by a bone-pale hand with long, slender fingers clutching at her sleeve, as a gravelly voice intoned a single word:</p><p>
  <em>”Blood!”</em>
</p><p>She wheeled round abruptly, one hand clutching the collar of her blood red coat to her throat, and the other scrabbling to fend off the pallid hand that gripped her arm.</p><p>“Jesus Fucking Christ! What the hell are you - <em>Bernie?</em> Oh my god, what are you trying to do to me?! That wasn’t funny, you absolute beast!”</p><p>For standing before her in the gloom of the long corridor, her face as pale as the hand now raised in self defence, was her co-lead and friend, the illustrious Bernie Wolfe.</p><p>“Serena!” she croaked out in a husky voice. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to startle you, but you were in a world of your own. I did try and tell you I was here, but I seem to have a frog in my throat. I just asked if you were here to give blood as well?”</p><p>Serena looked at her wide eyed, attempting valiantly to regain control over her galloping respiratory rate.</p><p>“Good god, you scared the life out of me, creeping up on me like that! What on earth are you doing here? You ought to be at home, tucked up with a hot toddy. You can’t possibly be fit enough to give blood this evening. Look at you, you’re as pale as a ghost!”</p><p>Bernie, as was her way, laughed it off. “Nonsense, my blood’s as good as the next woman’s. Though I have to admit, I didn’t know the next woman was you - I was just on my way home when I saw the sign outside - thought I might as well offer an armful. I haven't given blood for a good few months. I wasn’t sure I was in the right place, but then I saw you.”</p><p>Serena relaxed at last, and laughed at her own foolishness. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure either, but now that I know it’s you and not the ghost of some poor former inmate, it does seem more likely that we’re headed the right way. Come on, I think it must be this way.”</p><p>They cut through the gloom together, heading for the light that oozed through the double doors at the end of the corridor, and were rewarded by the encouraging sight of a handwritten sign on the door.</p><p>
  <em>Blood drive</em><br/>
<em>Here tonight</em><br/>
<em>Please give generously!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>iDrawn Human Donations Agency</em>
</p><p>Bernie looked at it sceptically.</p><p>“Blood UK’s budget’s been cut again, I see. Since when did they have to outsource the donor service? Ah well, sign of the times, I suppose. Come on, let’s go and do our duty.”</p><p>Serena thought fleetingly that there was something odd about the wording of the sign, but as Bernie pushed the doors open, the paper fluttered in the draft, and the moment was gone.</p><p>💉💉💉</p><p>It was a familiar set up: the rows of plastic chairs; the faded cloth screens separating one area from another, and the two friends laughed as they caught each other’s eye.</p><p>“Home from home, eh?”</p><p>Serena laughed. “It doesn’t seem quite so creepy now, somehow, does it? Hard to feel spooked by a few rows of school chairs and the all pervasive smell of Dettol.”</p><p>Bernie had already taken in the set up and led the way to an old trestle table that was being used as a makeshift reception desk.</p><p>“Hello there, are you taking walk-in donors? I haven't booked - I just saw the sign outside.”</p><p>The young woman in black scrubs pushed her hair back from her pale face and smiled.</p><p>“Oh, you don’t need to book - we’ll take anyone’s blood!” Her laughter was sharp, brittle in the dry air of the disused hospital ward, and she seemed to bite it back a moment later. “I mean to say, we’re glad to welcome you: thank you for donating. Could I ask you to fill in this questionnaire, please? And one for your friend - there. If you could just let me have them back when you’ve filled them in - thank you.”</p><p>It was a long time since Bernie had given blood in a civilian facility, and she was pretty sure that the criteria had changed radically in her time in the forces.</p><p>“Is this right?” she asked Serena uncertainly. “Have you spent more than ten hours in bright sunlight in the last twenty four hours… How many times have you eaten garlic in the last seven days… And why on earth do they need to know when you last attended a church service?!”</p><p>Serena was breezily ticking her way down the list, simply checking the “no” box for anything that might prevent her from giving blood.</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry about all of that - it’ll just be some diversity and equality thing, I expect. Just tick it here and here… that’s it, and sign it here - good. Come on, let’s get this over with - we’re not all that far from a nice little Italian I know, we can go and fortify ourselves afterwards.”</p><p>Bernie completed the form, but a sense of unease remained. There was just something a bit off about the whole thing, somehow. They returned the paperwork to the girl at the desk and waited to be called. When the time came, Bernie was invited to go to the first cubicle on the left, while Serena was escorted by another black-scrubbed nurse to the far end on the right.</p><p>***</p><p>Their paths didn’t cross again for the next half hour or so, but when they met up again in the long dark corridor, each of them was pale and clammy, and not just from giving blood. They spoke over each other in their haste to share their odd experiences.</p><p>“And when she did the pin prick test, I saw her licking her fingers as she walked away…”</p><p>“... ticked a box that said ‘tastes like chicken’...”</p><p>“My one ticked ‘chocolate and honeycomb’…”</p><p>“... heard one of them say ‘reminds me of that night at the Villa Diodati’…”</p><p>Bernie caught Serena’s arm. “I haven’t told you the weirdest thing yet. You know who runs this agency? I saw her name on the weirdly specific disclaimer I had to sign after they’d taken the standard armful.”</p><p>“Go on, who?”</p><p>“The iDrawn Human Donation Agency is owned and managed by none other than our own Jac Naylor. She of the sharp cheekbones, sharp tongue, and - apparently - sharp teeth.”</p><p>Serena stared at her, horrorstruck, then gave herself a little shake.</p><p>“Are you seriously asking me to believe that Jac Naylor is - and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this - a <em>vampire?</em>”</p><p>Bernie raised her hands as though to hold Serena at bay while she explained her thought process. “I know - I know it sounds crazy, but believe me, I’ve seen some crazy stuff out in the desert and in the mountains in Afghanistan: stuff that I just couldn’t explain through rational means. Think about it: a blood drive in an abandoned building with every room blacked out; the questions about garlic and sunlight and whatnot, and that girl trying to fit a cannula in the jugular - none of it makes sense - and neither does Jac’s involvement. Why would she tolerate this kind of half baked operation if there wasn’t something else behind it?”</p><p>Serena looked puzzled. “She wouldn’t, you’re right. I’d expect her to have shut the whole thing down, but instead she actually seems to be behind it all.” She ran a hand through her hair, leaving it sticking up comically, and Bernie though, quite endearingly. She continued.</p><p>“Okay. Okay, let’s say for a moment that she is a - one of them. That explains all of this oddness - and, by the way, did you know that she’s been called Jacula behind her back for years? But if she is, how does she manage to function at work? She’s there day in, day out, daylight or not - isn’t that meant to be one of the things they can’t tolerate?”</p><p>“Ah, but think about it,” Bernie said. “Darwin hardly has any windows, and the few it has got have UV screening - supposedly for their super sensitive equipment. She comes to work by bike in full leathers, and her helmet has a tinted screen. And I don’t think it’s just Jac, either. Petrenko? Fully covered in thick white foundation. Zosia? When did you last see her work a day shift? And as for Matteo Rossini, if he was born this century then I'm the Bride of Frankenstein. He’s an early nineteenth century romantic if I ever saw one - I bet he was at that villa with Byron and Bram Stoker the night Mary Shelly invented horror.”</p><p>Serena was looking at her with wide eyes, unsure whether to fear for her neck, or for Bernie’s sanity. It seemed that either way, they were in the right place. But Bernie wasn’t quite finished.</p><p>“And you know what?” she said, smacking her forehead with her palm. “The agency’s called iDrawn. <em>Darwin.</em> It’s obvious! What’s vampirism if it isn’t survival of the fittest?”</p><p>But before Serena could respond, there came a slow clapping from behind her, and Jac Naylor herself emerged from out of the shadows.</p><p>“Well done, Wolfe. Clever little soldier, aren’t you? I’ve told them not to use those ridiculous forms, but it’s so hard to get the staff these days. We seem to go through them in no time.”</p><p>“I’ll just bet you do,” said Bernie, insinuating herself between Naylor and Serena. Jac just smirked at her.</p><p>“Oh, look at you, protecting your girlfriend like some sort of misguided nobleman. Jonathan Harker was just the same, but I sorted <em>that</em> out quickly enough.”</p><p>Serena piped up. “Jonathan Harker - who’s he? One of your cast offs?”</p><p>Jac imperceptibly raised an amused eyebrow.</p><p>“Harker was the snivelling idiot who thought he could protect Mina Murray and Lucy Westenra from me,” she said in a bored tone.</p><p>Serena scoffed. “Oh, come on, even I’ve read the book. It’s a work of fiction, Jac.”</p><p>“And she’s not my girlfriend, actually - that particular rumour is just that,” Bernie added. “<em>What book?</em>” she asked Serena, <em>soto voce</em>.</p><p>“She means Dracula,” Jac drawled. “But really, what’s in a name? You think it’s, what? - coincidence, fear, affection? Jacula’s not a nickname, just a simple corruption of the name I inherited. Now, much as I’m enjoying this little girly chat, I really do have better people to be drinking, so let’s make it snappy, hey?” And she gave a little <em>snap</em> of her sharp white teeth to make her point.</p><p>“I don’t think so, Naylor,” Bernie growled, and with a roundhouse kick to the nearest oaken bookcase, she suddenly held a splinter of wood in her hand, and she held it poised to drive into Jacula’s cold heart.</p><p>“Oh, can the tedious heroics, Wolfe - I’m not planning to drain you. Our kind needs a shot in the arm, quite frankly - literally fresh blood. Join us! You’re just the kind of specimen I want to bring into the family - imagine, my brain and your brawn - we’d be unstoppable!”</p><p>Serena snorted. “Brawn? Bernie? She couldn’t even beat <em>me</em> in an arm wrestle! But brains - oh, she and I have got plenty between us. Jac, you can’t possibly expect to get away with this. The slipshod blood donor act - that won’t fool anyone for more than five minutes - and as for the name, do you really think nobody’s going to make the connection between iDrawn and Darwin? You’re putting the hospital in danger, but you’re not exactly making life - or whatever - easy for yourselves, are you?”</p><p>Jac eyed her up thoughtfully. “Ah, yes - the famous Harvard MBA. Admin never used to be a concern for my kind, but I can see that it might be quite useful to have someone with your expertise on board. What do you say, Campbell - are you with us? You could have an eternity to let this self sacrificing fool realise you’re in love with her…”</p><p>There was a gasp, and no-one could say whether it came from Bernie or Serena, for they spoke as one.</p><p>“You’re in love with me?”</p><p>It was Bernie who answered first.</p><p>“I am, Serena - god help me, but I am - have been for almost as long as I’ve known you.”</p><p>Serena looked at her in wonder. “Oh, Bernie - why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve been pining over you for <em>months</em> now! We could have been together all this time!”</p><p>Jac leaned in casually. “You could literally be together for all time, but you know, no pressure.”</p><p>Bernie was dazed, but she shook her head, her hair flying about her in a haze of gold.</p><p>“But vampires -“ she began, but she didn’t know how to continue.</p><p>“... live forever,” Jac supplied helpfully. “I can’t say I relish the idea of an eternity with this penpusher,” she said, jerking her head towards Serena, “But each to her own.”</p><p>“No,” Bernie said, “I mean - well, vampires are evil, aren’t they? The archetypal baddie?”</p><p>“Pffft!” Jac hissed. “People are so small minded. Oh, of course, you’ll find the occasional bad egg amongst us, but nobody’s perfect, are they? Look. You have a dedicated team of cardio specialists who have an intimate understanding of the circulatory system. Surely a vascular surgeon and a trauma specialist can see the advantage of that unique understanding?”</p><p>Bernie and Serena looked at each other.</p><p>“She really is an awfully good surgeon,” Serena eventually offered, almost apologetically.</p><p>“She is,” Bernie agreed. “It would be a terrible shame to deprive the NHS of her skills.”</p><p>“And even Petrenko and Dr March have their uses, I suppose,” Serena continued tentatively.</p><p>“Oh, quite! Fine medics, both of them.” Bernie said. “And as for the other thing - making an allegiance?”</p><p>“Well,” Serena said, “you know what they say - if you can’t beat them…”</p><p>“Which you really can’t,” Jac interjected.</p><p>“Then it looks as though we’ll have to join them, I suppose,” Bernie said with a twinkle in her eye.</p><p>“And you really do want to be with me?” Serena asked hopefully.</p><p>Bernie responded by lifting the hair away from her face, stretchng her neck back to expose her throat, and she presented it to Jac. Her heart was hammering, but not from fear.</p><p>She maintained steady, joyful eye contact with Serena as Jac’s sharp teeth sank into her throat.</p><p>“For eternity,” she said.</p>
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